


A New Home (Sherlock crackfic)

by Doctor_Whos_Lost221B_Companion



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comedy, Other, Roleplay Logs, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-23
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-26 13:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/651103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Whos_Lost221B_Companion/pseuds/Doctor_Whos_Lost221B_Companion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the first time... Sherlock gets the groceries right and buys...MILK! </p><p>Jam: DWL221B_C<br/>Milk: Frek from tumblr</p><p>It must have been a late night or something because I still don't remember how I came up with this prompt...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Home (Sherlock crackfic)

“Hey everyone! Look! The curly haired one finally bought a gallon! How fantasic! Hi there!” Jam exclaimed when the fridge door finally closed as the others in the fridge cheered happily.

“Oh my fridge! Is that a human head?” Milk asked and moved away nervously.

"What?" she peered over to the shelf bellow her, "oh, that thing. We've all gotten use to it right?" The others nodded in agreement.

"Does it..." Milk said peering at the head with something resembling fright, "Does it talk like the ones outside?"

The other food products chuckled and Jam wriggled out of her place on the door to Milk.

"No, never seen it do so... though..." carefully shuffling to it, it lightly poked into the squishy tissue, “Suppose not..."

Milk cringed. "Why is it in here, exactly? Aren't they normally attached to the rest of their person?"

"From my position in the store and here, I thought so. But these people, I think, are not normal… at least compared to the few others I have seen."

The diary product wondered what this new development meant exactly for him. If they would do strange things to him as well? He had grown up with dreams of making tea creamy or soggying up breakfast cereal, not curdling next to a rotting head. 

"Do they... do strange things to anything else? Or just their own species?"

"Well it goes like this," Jam moved away from the disgusting meat, "sometimes the short one leaves me out on the counter or table when he spreads me over Toast. From there, I got to see very interesting things."

"There were things bubbling on the surface they carried me past," Milk said conspiratorially, "Do you think they were any of us once?"

"No worries, I believe that was just soup or broth, for once something normal. There was one time where other people came in and were appalled when they found other... people parts in the spaces of the kitchen. I doubt this happens in other kitchens given by the look on their faces."

Milk looked back in a dark corner of the fridge, seeing a plate of what he thought used to be ham was crying. "What happened to him?" He asked Jam, who seemed to know everything about his new home.

"Oh... Ham... well the story of his life began a bit troubled unlike the rest of us here. You see," Jam began solemnly and sat comfortably next to Milk, "he was like every other pig, happy and becoming deliciously fat on the farm. Raised for their true purpose in life, farm pigs know of the inevitable, some hams, some sausages, and the like. When the day came to go through the metamorphosis, a man in a long coat came and picked him out of the group.

"The-the-then...." Jam started to get teary eyed.

Suddenly feeling very frightened, Milk shifted uncomfortably. The man in the long coat was the one that brought him here. If he did something terrible to ham, would it happen to him too? 

"Then what?" he asked hesitantly, almost afraid of the answer.

"As you know... they change into their new life with their fellow comrades to the loud triumphant roar of engines and steam. Instead, he was taken away from everyone and taken off to a building. He thought maybe he might be a pet for someone, which he wouldn't mind. Instead, he placed in a white room when the man appeared again with a... long knife or something. Was stabbed repeatedly in pain instead of the swift fall of the Blade. 

“Before he crossed over he saw the man covered in blood, at first smiling in delight but was then frustrated. He was dragged through the fast underground and dropped off to a deli, the short one returning the next day to pick him up for their consumption. Ham has many nightmares from it, nearly every night..." Jam shivered and nudged against Milk for comfort.

Milk stared at Ham, wondering how such a fate befell him. If something like that could happen to him or the others. He had a sudden urge to hide back behind the severed head, no matter how hideous and frightening that thing was. Maybe the one with the long coat wouldn't find him back there. The short one seemed nice, though, from what Jam was saying. He could only hope his life was spent in the short one's service. 

"There isn't much of ham left," Milk tried to reason, reassuring Jam as he felt Jam press up beside him. He leaned toward the condiment, hoping that helped too.

"Perhaps his suffering won't last much longer."

"I suppose, but I think you will be better off, trust me! The short one is obsessed with tea, gets all prickly if he has none."

"Does he use a lot of milk in his tea?" Milk asked, wondering if that were to be his fate. A fate he would be pleased to accept, if it were the case. He wondered what type of tea the short one liked to use. If he used any of those exotic teas he would see in the carts at the store, ones from all over the world, different flavors and scents. He'd love to mate himself with one of those. Of course, there was something to be said for a good, strong English tea.

"I think he uses an adequate amount, so have enough time to experience a few situations though not too long to spoil... I will admit sometimes things can be really fun around here," Jam blushed.

"Fun?" Milk asked, confused. So far all he heard was about the terrifying things his new owners would do. 

"I can't imagine, considering..." His voice trailed off as he caught Jam's blush. He always did favor the jars of Strawberry Jam at the store. They wore such a fetching shade of red.

"Well... there was this onetime..." she could feel her fruits go scarlet, "the short one took me out and I noticed it was dark, the time when no one was in the store usually, so I wondered if he was been suddenly hungry. But for the first time ever, he removed me from... the kitchen, to beyond the other parts of there space!"

Shocked, Milk practically gasped. It was unheard of for one of them to be moved outside of the kitchen. 

"Where did he take you?" Milk asked, his voice hushed.

"I think it would be considered their fridge though it was not cold at all, room temperature. So he took me inside, still puzzled on my sudden departure from my friends and-" the other above her began to giggle and the fruits in the draw bellow snickered.

"Yes, yes I know I am getting there! As I was saying, the short one placed me on a very small, but square counter and I waited for Bread to appear all hot and warm, though he never showed. Instead I saw the Curly haired man and the short one begin to hold each other and make the strangest of noises, even...eating at each other? Biting but not chewing or tearing away."

Thoroughly invested in the tale, Milk was practically on the edge of his shelf listening to Jam's story and he couldn't believe what he was hearing, that this is what happened outside their fridge, outside the kitchen. Milk looked back over at the head on the shelf. He wondered if that was why they had the head. Did they bite at it, too? It didn't appear to have any bite marks on it, though. Milk shivered. 

"What did they do to you?" He asked Jam, once again transfixed on the smaller crimson jar.

Everyone was on the edge of exploding with laughter when Jam sternly looked to them to quiet them.

"So I thought they would have been mad or frightened with them biting each other, but I saw them smiling to each other in delight. Finally after sometime, they began to sweat like a cold glass does outside in a hot room. By now they looked completely bare, they removed each other's dressings and sudden the short one picked me up and scooped a bit out spreading it on the tall one..."

Milk stared back at Jam, horrified. "They put you on their bodies?" He asked. 

"But you're a topping! For toast! Or crepes!" Milk suddenly had a surge of fear run through his liquid insides, bubbling up at the top. If they did such things to Jam, what would they do to him?

"I suppose it was unnatural though they seemed very happy and I was not wasted at all. The tall one even took a fruity piece of me and feed it into the mouth the other who happily licked his finger clean," Jam tried sound not too happy about it.

Instead Milk shivered. Jam had liked it. There was no hiding it. She'd become accustomed to this environment, to the strangeness of it all. Milk wondered if that would be him, though he knew he wouldn't live with them as long as Jam would. His lifespan was much shorter. If they didn't drink him quickly, he'd just spoil and eventually curdle. Milk pulled away from Jam slightly, though he didn’t have much room, he was already near the edge of his shelf and Jam had been steadily moving closer to him during the conversation. 

"Have they done that with anyone else here?" Milk asked after a moment, looking at the others living in the fridge, the fruits and vegetables and other condiments. Suspiciously, he eyed Chocolate Syrup suspiciously. He wouldn't meet Milk's gaze.

"Um... why don't we go take a walk..." Jam suddenly suggested and forced the door open, holding on to the swigging edge, using the momentum to land safety on the counter, "Well come on, bit of adventuring!"

Milk looked out into the kitchen, it was dark, the tall one apparently turning the light out after leaving Milk in the fridge. He'd never ventured outside of the fridge at the store when he lived there and he was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to do that here either. 

"Won't we get caught?" Milk asked, his voice a whisper as he looked around the room warily.

"Never have, though like I said, I rarely see beyond the kitchen. Unless you know how to get down from the count- ... hear that?" Jam turned to the sound of a box placed at the other end, "Let's check it out."

The diary product lingered back on his shelf, he had a bad feeling about this. He was still full and weighed quite a bit. He wasn't as small, light, and nimble as Jam. 

"I'm not so sure about this..." Milk said worriedly.

"With your girth, you'll be fast enough to make the landing, please it'll be ok. Right milk?" Jam encouraged, "The weight of the swing will carry you."

Milk nodded, still anticipating the worst. If he spilled his liquid all over the floor it couldn't be any worse than what would possibly be in store for him from the tall one. "Okay..." Milk said uncertainly, sliding back a few inches before moving forward quickly and launching himself across the gap onto the counter. He teetered for a moment on the ledge, the weight of his liquid sloshing around toward the precipice. Somehow, though, he was able to recover and shifted himself onto the counter fully, no longer in danger of spilling all over the floor.

"Brilliant!" Jam twisted about excited, "Come on lets us go take a look," she slid over to the box and peered inside, "Oh my, a Cake! Are you alright?! Why haven't you been cut into neat squares? It looks like some animal attacked you!"

A cake! Milk perked up. People liked to drink milk with cake. He wouldn't mind so much being paired with cake. Especially chocolate cake. He thought back fondly of a chocolate cake that had winked at him as she rode by on a cart at the store. Then Jam exclaimed about Cake's current state. 

"What happened?" Milk asked, those bubbles churning at the top again in fear. His new home was really starting to scare him. Whimpering a bit, Cake cowered in the corner, spilling some crumbs about while her chocolate chips gazed at them scared.

“It's ok, we are friends here alright. So... what happened..."

Shivering she started with a squeak, "Um... this man... lemon yellow t-t-top, bought me and I was excited, my chocolatey in-in-insides all soft and ready. Arriving here I waited p-p-patiently, until the Coat walked in with a another who's- who's- who's top was the color of flaked red pepper... he-he- he saw I was here in wait when he attacked!"

"What!?”

"No decency in it at all! No plates or forks! No nothing!" Cake cried.

Milk stared at Cake and Jam horrified. "You said this place would be fun!" He shouted, inching away from Jam, who he was beginning to trust less and less. 

"Look what they did to Cake! To Ham! LOOK WHAT THEY DID TO YOU!" He moved back further, until he felt himself pressing against the ledge. He had nowhere else to go.

"It can be it can! It's the Short one who is so kind and wonderful... it's that other one and his friend, always ruining everything," Jam said hotly.

"She's right! It was the Lemon One that pulled Pepper Top off me..." Cake remarked quietly.

Milk whimpered from the ledge, wondering if he'd be better off letting himself spill across the floor. "But he can't control them all the time," Milk said, looking back at the welcome cold of the fridge, missing his shelf at the store with all its possibilities. He could have ended up in such a different home. One with children and condiments that were used like they should be.

"No Milk, please don't! I promise it gets better! I doubt the Tall would have interest in you because he never eats!" Jam cautiously moved to milk.

"But what about what was done to Cake!" Milk said, looking back over the edge. So close. "The tall one nor the Short One did that! There's others here that do things to us."

"I swear milk, everyone else that comes in here is normal, Pepper Top has only been here on one other occasion... please..."

Milk suddenly looked up from the ledge, feeling a tremor in the counter. One of them was moving outside the kitchen and possibly toward them. He looked at Jam, fear filling his features. "What do we do?" He asked, looking around the kitchen for escape.

"Just act natural," Jam whispered quickly and stuck her label back up, becoming completely still, with a dead panned look.

Milk did the same, though he could feel himself starting to sweat. Whether it was from the warm kitchen or the fear threatening to curdle his contents, he couldn't say. He could hear the footsteps coming closer and suddenly a light switch was thrown on.


End file.
